27 July Reflections

I became a Christian at the age of 13. It was a radical change, and very quickly, my faith in Jesus became the focal point of my life.

My behaviour changed. I used to speak foul language and loved telling dirty jokes but all that stopped. I began reading Christian books. Friday noons and Sunday mornings were spent in church. I joined a small discipleship group, church camps, and youth outings. Most of my best friends were Christians.

At school, I got involved in the Christian Fellowship, which met regularly in classrooms. We even had a small morning prayer group that gathered at the basketball court before lessons began.

I read the Bible almost every day—highlighting and marking my KJV Bible with fluorescent colours, scribbling notes in the margins. I remember losing that Bible once—it was a crisis akin to losing your phone today. My mind and conversations were saturated with spiritual concerns. I regularly engaged in discussions about the Christian faith with friends, both believers and non-believers.

Much of this continued through my teenage years, as I began to take on leadership responsibilities. When I came to Singapore to study at NUS, I got involved with my hostel’s Varsity Christian Fellowship. It was an interdenominational setting, and for a time, that became the hub of my faith life—until I eventually settled into a local church.

That next phase of life was at St John’s–St Margaret’s Church (SJSM). I eventually became a parish worker, and then a clergy. My earlier ambition to become a teacher gave way to the pastoral needs I felt compelled to meet—especially the care of more than a hundred tertiary students. I was slow-walking into a life-long vocation. Bishop Moses Tay was a significant influence in guiding me toward the Anglican ministry.

I was a “full” reverend by the time I reached my early 30s. One could say I lived a life as a “Youth for Christ.”

But I am no longer a youth. In fact, I’m now approaching retirement age. And yet, I still feel stirred and challenged by messages such as the one Ps Janelle preached last week.

Am I still living in the zone of God’s felt presence? Can others sense His presence when they are with me? Is there a real dependence on the Spirit in my life and work—or have I come to rely too much on experience and resources? Am I still asking for more of the Lord, or have I ceased contending?

When I look back, those early years now seem like seasons of revival. Yet, at the time, they felt like the normal Christian life.

Have age, experience—and perhaps disappointments—dulled my courage and childlike faith? Or has my role simply changed, as I take my place as an “elder” (even if the grey hairs have yet to catch up)?

Can I still influence others—just in a different way? Perhaps I am now called to be a cheerleader for the next generation. If so, do I inspire them—not through past heroic deeds, but through who I am now?

These are some of the quiet questions I’ve been pondering. As we hear younger voices and seek God together for MPCC’s future, there are no quick answers. We wait. We pray. We question. We listen—to the Lord, and to one another.